The Shattering
by Goddess Blue
Summary: WIP. HD slash. Sequel to 'Like Glass.' When you let love in and give it a chance to make you weak, can you withstand the pressure? Or will you shatter?
1. Being Out

Disclaimer: **Harry Potter**, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of Warner Bros. They are used here for entertainment purposes only.

Warnings: Slash. Het. Angst. Public Gropage.

Spoilers: Previously written story: Like Glass. Written Pre-OotP. 

**The Shattering  
Chapter 1 - Being Out**

The steady, sickening _tap tap tap_ of the professor's shoes only worsened Draco's headache. They were in Potions, Gryffindor and Slytherin, and it was deadly quiet.

It had been only two days since what was now dubbed the 'infamous hallway kiss', and Draco was still feeling the icy winds from his Head of House.

Snape was not a happy man.

The population of the class all scrunched down in their seats, heads lowered, nervous tics and furious scribbling as they completed yet another viscious pop quiz. Neville had turned from a dull red to blue to purple and was now taking on a sickly shade of green.

_Tap._

Tap.

Tap.

In the darkest robes he owned, hair much greasier than normal, and so nastily mean as to take points from his own house, Snape was telling the world, quietly and maliciously, just exactly how he felt about it.

In the past two days Harry had racked up a record amount of point loss, so much so that students talked about keeping score and seeing if they could add it to the copy of 'History of Hogwarts' Hermione Granger always gushed about. And that was only the beginning of the Hogwarts reaction.

The Hufflepuffs, in general, felt that a relationship between the two bitter rivals could only be a good thing. It brought about a kind of peace, they felt. The Ravenclaws seemed to agree, though most only gave cautious praise of the match. If Voldemort's most faithful lackey's son could support the side of good, the side of Harry Potter... there might be a political chance in winning this war.

The Gryffindors seemed mixed. There were those who tended to support Harry in whatever made him happy, and there were others who felt he was betraying his family by 'sleeping with the enemy'.

The Slytherins... well, Draco didn't get the reaction he'd expected.

He expected insults and mockery. He expected evil tricks and death threats.

He simply did not expect the ice.

There were some who still glanced at him with a confused expression on their faces, as if waiting for him to jump up and announce it was all a big joke. A trick on Potter. An evil plan for the Dark Lord.

There were some who glared at him, as if the looks they gave could make him fall dead in an instant.

But mostly, his old friends looked right through him, as if he wasn't even there.

Draco Malfoy was out.

Draco still hadn't received word from his parents, and he dreaded the Owl Post with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Loving Harry Potter could be dangerous business.

* * *

Harry Potter was enjoying every second. Now, he was used to the spotlight. He was used to the insults, the jabs, the hero worship, and, while he didn't _usually_ like it, this would have to be an exception.

He was getting a kick out of shocking the school. It was to be expected, Hermione had pointed out the night before. After spending so many years doing exactly what he was supposed to do, this was his way of rebelling. Doing exactly what he wasn't supposed to do. Having nearly everyone disappointed in him, and the rest just surprised at his audacity.

It wasn't that he was _seeing_ Draco, it was that he was taking every opportunity to flaunt it in the face of Hogwarts. That kiss in the hall two days prior, was not their last public display. Draco always seemed to blush profusely when Harry pulled him close in the middle of a busy stairway. Draco tried to avoid him as class ended and Harry pushed him up against a nearby door jam. Draco slapped him silly when Harry patted him on the ass after lunch the day before.

Harry was being a bad, bad boy.

But Harry had a different theory. It had been a shock to his system, falling for Draco. A surprise. He still couldn't put his finger on what it was that made him look past years of torment, thousands of bitter, angry words. It was so many things. It was the way he'd begun to see Draco as pretty. It was the way the past few months had brought to him a quieter, more withdrawn Draco Malfoy. It was that day by the tree on the Hogwarts grounds, that had made Harry want to hear his name from those lips more than just the one slip of the tongue. The day that got him thinking about what Draco would look like with a blush. With a flush.

Maybe Harry was just growing up, but after one too many crashes on the quidditch pitch, Harry knew the feel of Draco in his arms or sprawled on top of him, and he liked it.

Harry knew just how intelligent Draco was, and respected it. Even if the brains had been, till lately, used for evil.

When he'd seen how Draco protected Blaise and his burgeoning relationship with Ginny Weasley, Harry was proud.

When he'd had that first, drugging, hungry kiss on the dewy grass of the Quidditch Pitch, the Golden Snitch twitching between them, Harry wanted another.

And another.

Loving Draco Malfoy could be _such_ wonderful business.

**End Chapter**


	2. In Plain Sight

Disclaimer: **Harry Potter**, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of Warner Bros. They are used here for entertainment purposes only.

Warnings: Slash. Het. Angst. Public Gropage. Hugging.

Spoilers: Previously written story: Like Glass. Written Pre-OotP. 

**The Shattering  
Chapter 2 - In Plain Sight**

The door to their austere dorm slammed shut, and Blaise idly wondered if one of these days it would simply fall off it's hinges, despite the exquisite workmanship. It had, in the course of the past few weeks, been slammed, punched, kicked and cursed at, simply because it dared stand between Draco Malfoy and the rest of the world.

There was a low, grating grumble coming from the rumpled blond. Rumpled was a good look for Draco, Blaise had decided days ago, because it meant that Draco wasn't spending hours trying to be perfect anymore. It meant that he wasn't brooding in front of his mirror and practicing an evil sneer. It meant that he didn't care how people saw him, at least not in terms of physical beauty. It also meant that Harry Potter was doing a fine job of rumpling, and by proxy distracting, Draco from an ever looming confrontation with Malfoy Sr.

He knew Draco didn't see it that way.

"What the bloody hell is that boy _thinking_?" Draco screeched at the closed door, and Blaise stifled a grin at hearing the frazzled note in his best friend's voice.

"I imagine he's not."

"Not what?"

"Thinking."

Draco growled and kicked the door for good measure. Then he trudged-_A Malfoy,_ Blaise thought, _trudging._-to his bed and fell face first onto it.

There was a moment of silence, as Blaise tried in vain to suppress his laughter before it spilled out into the heavy air. Draco's shoulders bunched, but his face didn't come up from the bedspread.

"D-" Blaise tried to contain his laughter, "D-did he pat your arse again?"

Draco sat up and twisted around to face Blaise, the mottled rage on his face enough to make errant laughter die a quick death. "Do you think this is funny, Blaise?"

Blaise shifted his Arithmancy book off his lap and cleared his throat, trying to find the appropriate response.

"Of course you think this is funny. You and the whole bloody school. You and the whole _bloody_ world, because none of you understand what's going to happen as soon as my father finds out about this... these revolting displays and my disgusting choice of bed partners."

Oh. So maybe Potter wasn't doing his duty to distract His Blondness. Anger was threaded through Draco's words, along with a healthy bit of disgust, and even... even a tiny slice of fear.

"Draco-"

"No. No, you don't get it. What do you think he'll do, Blaise? Yell? Freeze me out, like my loyal housemates have done? Do you think he'll cut my allowance? No." Draco began pulling in deep breaths, and Blaise had to look away from the sight of his long, pale fingers twisting up his sheets. "No, he won't. He won't send me a howler, he won't take away my broomstick. He won't let my owl go, and he won't send me to my room without supper. We're in the middle of a fucking war, Zabini, and I've just chosen the wrong side. As in, not the side my father fights for. Not the side my mother fights for. Not the side my entire family for thousands of years would have chosen."

"Draco-"

"He'll disown me, at best. That is the best case scenario. He will never approach me, he will cease paying my tuition, and he will allow me to find my way in life without the use of his last name. At best. At worst, he will use me to get at my boyfriend, whom I'll remind you he hates. At worst, he will come here and thank me for helping him turn over Harry Potter to the Dark Lord. At worst, I will be used to further Potter's destruction, and then tossed to the dogs like the traitor I am."

Draco fell silent, and Blaise resisted the urge to say something hollow and comforting, knowing, perhaps, that Draco had needed to tell someone his fears. Knowing that Draco had been unable to discuss it with Potter, for whatever reason. Perhaps he didn't want to worry the brunet. Perhaps he was trying to protect his love the best way he knew how. Perhaps he simply didn't want to think about it with Harry there.

He picked up his Arithmancy book again and the silence stretched on.

* * *

Harry didn't look up at the soft footsteps behind him, engrossed as he was in his mountain of extra potions homework. He didn't move when the cushions to his left sank in and a warmth settled beside him. He didn't acknowledge the soft, polite greeting.

He did, however, react to the pain of a palm snapping against the back of his head.

"Ginny!"

"Harry." The redhead wasn't smiling at him.

"What was that for?"

"That was for subjecting me to the public groping of Draco Malfoy."

Harry rubbed at his new sore spot and rolled his eyes, closing _Potions for Everyday Use_ with a thump, and placing it on the table between his couch and the Gryffindor hearth.

"Why in Merlin's name are you annoying your boyfriend in such a manner?" Ginny lowered her voice towards the end of her harsh statement as a second year began to lean closer and cease taking notes.

"You sound like your mother, Ginny." Harry breathed back at her, hoping the lump would go away eventually.

"Harry Potter-"

"He looks cute annoyed! Why can't I annoy him?"

"Because, you insensitive git, he's obviously going through a lot and really, really needs your support. Not this childish behaviour you're engaging in-"

"When did you learn all these big new words?"

Ginny growled, and the second year eased fearfully away, "He's giving up a lot for you, if you hadn't noticed, and I haven't heard him complaining when his housemates give him the cold shoulder-"

"They're arseholes!"

"-or when his favorite teacher looks at him like so much mud on the bottom of his boot-"

"Snape's an arsehole too!"

"-or that his family, the family he has betrayed for you..." She paused and then went on when he didn't interrupt, "has not sent any kind of communication to him for weeks. You and I both know that they must be aware of the situation. Don't you see how worried Draco is? Don't you see how upset and stressed out he's getting? Don't you see that you're the arsehole in this scenario!"

By this time her voice had risen, and no one in the common room needed to strain to hear their conversation, nosey second years included.

"He's going through hell for you, and you're having a ball! I thought you loved him!"

There was silence, the awkward demanding type of silence, before Harry finally blinked at her and licked his lips.

"I..."

He stumbled to a stop before he could complete his sentence and then went pale and bolted up from the couch and out of the room.

Satisfied, Ginny gathered his books into a neat pile and sat primly on the couch, knowing smile curved upon her lips.

* * *

"I'm sorry."

Draco looked up from his tightly clenched hands into worried, emerald green eyes, but said nothing.

"I'm so... so sorry."

Draco shrugged, not even bothering to pretend he didn't know what Harry was talking about, and turned his head to look back out the window towards an empty Quidditch Pitch.

"Draco... say something"

"I'm not mad at you. Where did you get that idea?"

"I... I've been acting like an arse."

"Yes, you have."

"I've been completely insensitive. I haven't been there for you to talk to."

"That's true."

"I'm a horrible boyfriend."

"You're new at it," Draco said, and Harry couldn't tell if it was a joke or an allowance made on his behalf.

"What can I do to make it up to you?" Harry was nearly begging, and weeks before Draco would have been inordinately pleased.

Now, he just felt the emotions he'd been holding back rush in on him.

"Just... just hold me."

And then he was in Harry's arms and being rocked gently, dry sobs, more like awful, heavy shakes, forced from him. He turned his face into Harry's warmth and buried his nose into Harry's scent, eyes closing tight.

It didn't even matter that they were still in plain sight.

**End Chapter**


	3. Fears and Choices

Disclaimer: **Harry Potter**, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of Warner Bros. They are used here for entertainment purposes only.

Warnings: Slash. Het. Angst. Kisses.

Spoilers: Previously written story: Like Glass. Written Pre-OotP. 

**The Shattering  
Chapter 3 - Fears and Choices**

"I'm scared."

Harry blinked and stared at Draco for a moment, thrown. This was new. It was one of those new things he supposed he'd have to get used to, you know, now that he was dating Draco Malfoy. He thought maybe that he'd heard those words from Draco before, spilled grudgingly out to him on the cold, damp grass of the Quidditch Pitch. He might've even known when Draco was scared, back in the before years when they still hated each other, but this was new. This whispering confession, like it was a relief to tell Harry he was afraid. A weight off Draco's shoulders to remind Harry that he was human, and alive, and awfully young still.

And Draco's voice was hoarse in a way Harry had never heard it before, sort of rough and wet like he'd been talking for hours, even though Draco didn't talk for hours. He was more likely to sit and glare at you until you started babbling everything you'd ever done wrong, or if he wasn't mad he'd just sit and watch you with a patient, waiting expression on his face, like he was doing now.

Oh. _Oh._

"Um... what?"

"I'm... Merlin, Potter, do you get a thrill out of this?" Draco spat out incredulously.

"No, it's just. I got lost in thought for a moment. It's odd, you know, you telling me you're scared. I was... enjoying it."

"Enjoying me being scared? Are we sure about this dating thing, Potter?"

"No," Harry chuckled, glad that through this whole little bypass from sanity Draco hadn't pulled away. He squeezed him closer. "No, I meant, the you telling me about it scenario. I like that."

"I'm also hungry. Does that make you happy?"

Harry kissed his forehead and watched in a amusement as Draco's brow wrinkled. "Oddly, yes it does."

Draco sighed and then let all the tension out of his muscles again, then directed a glare at the two third years who'd stopped dead in the doorway to the abandoned classroom he and Harry had had their little breakdown in. The girl blanched and fled, pulling her little boyfriend after. Draco closed his eyes and tried not to be annoyed that the door was still open, because he didn't feel like getting out of Harry's warm embrace to close it and get them some well deserved privacy.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" Harry whispered in his hair.

"Well, I didn't get lunch because I couldn't bear sitting at the edge of that table and having everyone look at me-"

"No. I mean, that's awful and you should tell me that so that I can bring you food, or cast a spell on them or something to make you feel better, but I meant that I want you to tell me about being... you know... scared."

The last word was said in a whisper, as if the words being said at a certain level of volume had something to do with how comfortable Draco was with it. Apparently not, as he was sure he'd be just as embarrassed about the whole thing if Harry had yelled it from the highest tower of Hogwarts.

"I'm... I know a lot of things that _could_ happen. Things Father could do. Things _I_ would do, if our positions were reversed, but I have this impending sense of doom that very soon I'm going to find out for sure. That scares me, because... there's a difference between thinking you know how something is and being sure of it."

He cleared his throat of thickness and prepared himself to get the rest out, because it was reputed to be therapeutic to talk about these things with the person you were in a relationship with, and he didn't want to have to voice his fears more than once.

"It's like... I know, at least I'm awfully sure that they don't love me."

Harry's chest lifted and Draco was sure he was gathering breath to say something.

"No... I mean I'm very sure, so just... I'm sure, yes? I just... very soon I'm going to be completely sure, and there's no forgetting that sort of thing, and I'm not really looking forward to it."

"Draco... they love you," Harry offered, not really knowing what to say, because the truth was, if it was anyone else and their parents he'd believe his own words, but these were Malfoy's, and apparently the rules were different.

Draco was silent for a moment, wondering whether he could just nod and agree with Harry and forget about it for another day. Because all this worrying about it was exhausting, but still... still better than the knowing for sure that scared him so much and he still had to talk about it.

"I... don't think so. I wish... no, not really. It is the way it is. If they don't love me, I'll be crushed, but I'm expecting it. I'll have you. Have I thanked you for that?" He opened his eyes looked up at Harry, who'd opened his eyes too, and they had another one of those moments that had been few and far between since the whole world had found out about them and begun nosing in their business. The silent kind of falling moment that reminded Draco that this, _this_, was love and worth all the sacrifices and fighting and losing and dying that he'd scoffed at for years on end.

And then Harry's eyes slid closed, and Draco's felt heavy, and Harry's lips were on his and they were kissing and Draco was actually forgetting that the door was still standing open and the whole world was watching them.

* * *

Draco was happy, under that hazy kind of emotional spell Harry put on him when they were being honest and open and... naked with their clothes on. It was beautiful, and it made him wonder why his father thought it was such a weakness, being putty in another person's hands. Well, maybe that wasn't the proper metaphor to show the kind of strength his weakness for Harry gave him, but it fit. He was weak, in love with Harry Potter, and that made him strong. Strong and brave and courageous, and all the things he'd sneered at in Harry for years and secretly wished for.

And now he was waxing poetic, and wouldn't daddy be disgusted with _that_?

He sighed as he pushed his way around Goyle, who stared at him for a moment, as if he'd forgotten who Draco was, and then glared at the blond and stomped down that hall--away from their dorms. Which was all right with Draco because he didn't really want to have conversations with Goyle in any case.

Not that he was in denial about his level of bitterness or anything.

He kicked closed the dormitory door behind him, causing Blaise to look up from his open trunk, a dull, lost look in his eyes.

"Blaise?" Draco asked, then, awkwardly, "Are you... all right?"

"I got a letter."

"Oh." _Oh._ "Oh, that's good, I suppose?" Draco offered weakly, hoping against hope that Blaise, at least, would get some good news.

"They're transferring me to Beauxbatons. They say I've been... 'Adversely influenced by the atmosphere at Hogwarts Academy.'"

Draco dropped his books on his own trunk at the base of his bed and settled on the thick mahogany beside them. "That's..." oh, hell he was awful at this friend thing. "That's ridiculous. Do they mean me and Harry?"

"No, I think they mean Ginny Weasely."

Draco stared at him for a moment, then sighed and closed his eyes. Bugger. "How did they find out about that?"

"I told them." Blaise turned his back to Draco and began folding a robe and placing it neatly on his growing pile. "I thought... I don't know what I thought, but I didn't think this."

"You thought they'd love you and accept you."

Blaise stiffened, and then slammed his chest closed and whirled around to face Draco. "Yes. And they should've. They should still. This isn't-" he broke off before he said something stupid and whiny like 'This isn't fair.' and 'Why does this have to happen to me?'

They avoided looking at each other for a moment, and then Draco sagged back onto his bed, scooting off the edge of his trunk. "So, you're going then?"

Blaise sighed. "What choice do I have?"

Anyone else would find ways to give him flimsy hope, or tell him he could try for a scholarship, but Draco was a realist and knew that, in their world, there weren't many other choices.

Slytherin's weren't known for their hopeful attitudes.

Blaise shook his head and then kicked his trunk for good measure. "I'm... off to tell Ginny then."

"She'll cry."

Blaise stood and didn't even flinch at the offhand comment from his friend. "I know."

"She'll yell, too."

"Probably, yes."

"She'll start searching for ways to get you to stay here, she'll talk my boyfriend into helping, they'll try to convince you to stay anyway, and then try to convince Dumbledore to give you a scholarship."

"That sounds like something our significant others might come up with, yes."

"Maybe you shouldn't tell her, not yet. She'll just get all worked up. She'll... fight for you."

"I know." And Blaise's voice held a note of amused wonder in it for a moment, before fading, "I know. But I'm leaving tomorrow, so she'll only have a chance to get a little worked up."

Draco rose up, "maybe you should have told her yesterday, then. Maybe they could have worked something out and you'd have been able to stay here. Merlin, _we_ could think of something. I'm not against begging Dumbledore for help."

Blaise blinked at him, "that's... quite touching, actually." And Blaise meant it as much as Draco meant his willingness to prostrate himself in front of the headmaster and beg for help. "But, you know I have to go. You know... they're my parents, and... _you_ know, right Draco?"

Draco deflated, and nodded slowly.

"Thank you. For being my friend, it's been an honor."

Draco wanted to make a crack about the melodramatics, but couldn't seem to muster up the energy.

"She'll cry, and she won't understand," Draco's voice halted Blaise's hand on the door handle.

Blaise sighed and opened the door.

"I know."

**End Chapter**


	4. The Way We Do Things

Disclaimer: **Harry Potter**, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of Warner Bros. They are used here for entertainment purposes only.

Warnings: Slash. Het. Angst. Kisses.

Spoilers: Previously written story: Like Glass. Written Pre-OotP. 

**The Shattering  
Chapter 4 - The Way We Do Things**

"Mr. Malfoy, please have a seat." A flutter of pitch black robes followed Draco through the dank office, and he sank regally onto the leather chair facing Snape's desk. This little meeting had been a long time coming, but Draco wasn't sure today was the best day for it.

Just yesterday he'd had to say goodbye to probably the only friend he'd ever had, and watch as, just as he'd predicted himself, Ginny Weasely cried the day away. He was still dealing with the hopeless, 'please help me,' look she'd given him. As if he could do anything, as if he would if he could've.

Harry had been disgusted, and had complained angrily to Draco that Blaise was an idiot for not trying harder to stay at Hogwarts, to stay with the girl he loved.

And so they'd fought, and Harry had asked why. Why did he have to leave her? And Draco could only say, "Because."

He didn't know how to explain to Harry that, yes, even parents like Blaise's held power over their progeny. That the phrase 'starved for affection' wasn't just for the bourgeoisie.

They both knew that Harry was really asking whether Draco would leave too.

And Draco didn't know how to tell him that, yes, given half a chance, and not because he didn't love Harry. No, it was because...

"Mr. Malfoy," Snape's voice brought him back to the present. "I don't particularly care to have this discussion more than once, so please, bring yourself back from wherever you've gone and try to pay attention."

"Yes, sir." Draco cleared his throat and stared at his professor, who said nothing. He hesitated for a moment, "The past few days have been..."

"Quite." Snape's eyes were boring into him, and Draco barely stopped himself from looking away.

Weak, he was not.

"I assume you are aware of today's topic of conversation, Mr. Malfoy."

"Harry."

Professor Snape snorted in the back of his throat, and Draco raised an eyebrow, the tension broken. "Mr. Potter, the bane of my existence. Why should I wish to speak of him?"

"I had assumed-" that you'd want to lecture me on my terminally stupid behavior?

"Don't. Admittedly, I do not approve. It is, however, your life Mr. Malfoy. I have no say in it, provided you keep the public displays to a minimum and you do not... indulge... on school property."

Draco stared at him for a moment, nonplussed. "Then...?"

"I wish to discuss your parents. And their plans for you."

"You've spoken to them, then." Draco finally looked away from him, nervous. His palms were already sweating. But he looked back in time to see Snape shaking his head.

"No, Mr. Malfoy, senior, is being closed-mouthed. No one's heard a word from him on the subject."

"Neither have I." That seemed to surprise his professor, and Draco smiled weakly. "He's hoping the suspense will kill me, I'm sure."

Snape's mouth curled up in a derisive smile not aimed at Draco. "It would seem so. I do however, wish to be prepared."

"Like Blaise was?"

Snape lost his smile and glared at Draco, then clasped his hands together before him. "The situations are entirely different, Mr. Malfoy."

"No. Not really. I see much in common."

"I don't. The Zabinis, in the end, love their son and want him to be happy. If this little relationship of his with Miss Weasley survives the test of distance, she'll be accepted into the family."

Draco exhaled slowly, "You know this?"

"They mentioned it to me, in conference. It's not to go beyond this room," he gave Draco a stern look.

"It's cruel-"

"It's the way we do things, Mr. Malfoy."

And there was the cold, hard truth, wrapped up in a line Draco had heard before. Father, why did we pay the nice Aurors? Don't they get paid already? Why must I wear the new robes? I like my old ones better. Why can't I be friends with that boy? It doesn't matter that his father owns a shop.

It's the way we do things, Draco.

Draco sucked in a breath and then let it slowly out. "If that's all, then?"

"No. Draco." Snape unclasped his hands and sighed. "Your father..."

"We don't know what he'll do until he does it. We might as well wait."

"He's unhappy with your new situation."

Draco bit back a sarcastic 'Thank you, Professor Obvious.' and glared at the floor. "He sees love as a weakness."

"Yes, I'm aware of your father's views on weakness."

"Are you?"

"I'm also aware of what tactics he may use to sway you-"

"So am I. They won't work."

_Won't they, Draco?_

"In any case, I would like to extend the offer of scholarship to you, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco looked up from the rug and blinked away the surprise that must have shown on his face. "Scholarhip?"

"You're a gifted student, Mr. Malfoy, despite your lack of intelligence in other areas of your life. I would hate to see you leave."

"You didn't offer this to Blaise."

"No. I didn't need to. The situations, as I've said, are different."

"Of course, because my parents will move right past threats and onto bribery."

"Quite."

Draco shook his head in confusion for a moment, "You'd go against my father?"

"I'm not afraid of him, Draco."

"You should be. I am."

"I simply need you to know, Draco, that if it comes down to money, you'll be taken care of."

Draco looked up at the grave face of his favorite teacher, overwhelmingly glad that his love for Harry hadn't alienated him from everyone he cared for. "Thank you, professor."

Snape nodded and then gestured at the door, their meeting over.

* * *

"How did it go?" Harry's voice was anxious, and Draco looked up from the grass he'd been worrying at into those lovely, comforting green eyes.

"Surprisingly well."

Harry smiled a relieved smile, and bent down to kiss Draco's forehead before seating himself next to him in the moonlit field where they'd shared their first kiss.

"He approves, then?"

Draco snorted in genuine amusement. "Of course not."

"Oh?" Harry was frowning at him now.

"He thinks I'm an imbecile. He definitely hates you. Give me a proper kiss, now."

Harry leaned over and their lips met briefly, though Harry still wore a confused frown.

"How is that well?"

Draco shrugged. "It could have been worse, I suppose. He says my life is my own and he doesn't care what I do with it, so long as I don't 'indulge' on school property."

"Ah." But Harry obviously didn't get it, and Draco was too exhausted to explain.

"How is the Weaselette?"

"Don't call her that. She's still upset, but she stopped crying."

"That's good."

"No, it's really not. Ron's worried."

Draco nodded. "He shouldn't be. Tell her not to give up. Distance isn't an insurmountable obstacle, and there are always owls."

"Are there?" and Harry was staring straight at him.

Draco sighed, his eyes dropping back down to the grass. "Harry..."

"Should I invest in a new owl, for when you leave, Draco?" His voice had a touch of bitterness in it, as if Draco had _already_ left.

"Don't bother."

There was a pregnant pause.

"I see," came the icy response finally.

"You really don't. My father isn't going to give me that option."

"Are you sure?"

"Fairly."

"Would you go, if it was an option?"

"In a heartbeat."

Harry flinched.

"I love him, Harry."

"He doesn't love you."

And didn't the truth sting? Poor Draco Malfoy whose father never really loved him, because Malfoys don't love. Except this one.

"It doesn't make me love him any less."

They were silent, and Draco couldn't look up from the grass in his hands.

"I love you, Harry," he whispered.

A breath was let out from the boy beside him, and he smelt Harry as he leaned into him. "I know, Draco. It doesn't make _me_ love _you_ any less, even though you think it should."

Draco winced internally. Maybe a part of him _was_ sure that weakness made him undeserving of love. Because that, of course, must _be_ the reason Lucius didn't love him. Too much weakness, too little strength.

"I'd love you even if you went away skipping. Even if you never wrote me at all."

"He'll write." Draco interrupted hoarsely.

"I know. I'd love you even if you turned around tomorrow and told me it was all a joke, or a trap, or a plan to give me to Voldemort."

"I wouldn't tell you if it was an evil plan to turn you over to the Dark Lord."

Harry cut off a chuckle, and Draco finally looked up, immediately falling into Harry's gaze.

"I'd love you even if you hated me. Because, Draco... I thought you _did_ for such a long time, and still I loved you."

"I thought I did, too."

They were whispering to each other now, and leaning in with every word, until their lips met and they stayed connected for a long while.

Eventually, Draco pulled back and smirked at Harry. "Care to 'indulge' with me on school property?"

"Why Mr. Malfoy," Harry joked, "we'll be caught for sure. You're an awful influence."

"No need to ply me with compliments now, Potter. You've already got me."

"Yes, well. It never hurts to be overly sure of my welcome with you. It's the way I'm going to do things."

"That's disgustingly romantic. Stop it."

"Yes, sir."

**End Chapter**


	5. In Order of Priorities

Disclaimer: **Harry Potter**, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of Warner Bros. They are used here for entertainment purposes only.

Warnings: Slash. Het. Angst. Language.

Spoilers: Previously written story: Like Glass. Written Pre-OotP. 

**The Shattering  
Chapter 5 - In Order of Priorities**

All that could be heard in the classroom was the snick and scratch of quills on paper. Another week had gone by and Draco was once again in Potions with Gryffindors, although today Professor Snape was much less harsh. His attitude had been adopted school-wide, and it'd been days since Draco had been openly stared at.

Funny how even gossip as big as Harry Potter being queer for Draco Malfoy eventually dies down.

The topic of conversation among the school was now Miss Ginny Weasley's attitude. She was quiet and reserved, her eyes cold and distant. He'd seen Pansy sneer at her more than once, and there'd been no reaction from the little red-head. Every morning in flew Blaise's owl with a thick letter, and every morning out Ginny's breakfast plate went with an un-opened love letter upon it.

Draco didn't understand her one bit.

There was a knock on the wooden door, and a pause in Professor Snape's steps, and then Professor Dumbeldore's head popped in. "Ah, Professor Snape. Might I borrow you and young Mr. Malfoy for a moment?"

Draco sighed and exchanged glances with Harry across the room before getting to his feet and following his head of house out into the hall. Snape, who hated to be interrupted during class, tapped his foot impatiently once the class door had been closed and his students had been shut out of hearing range.

"To what do we owe this visit, Headmaster?" Snape finally prompted.

"Well. It seems we have a visitor to see Mr. Malfoy this afternoon."

Snape's foot paused in it's tapping, bringing a moment of startled silence, and then he shifted and loomed into the headmaster's space. It would have been amusing to watch him scowl at Professor Dumbledore and attempt to intimidate him in any other situation, but as of one spoken sentence ago, Draco was no longer seeing the humor in this situation.

"Mr. Malfoy is in the middle of class, Headmaster. I'm going to have to demand that he remain there."

"Come now, Professor, I'm sure you can spare him from this afternoon's class."

"I really don't think that I can."

"I disagree."

"Excuse me, Professors," Draco interrupted, "not that this isn't entertaining, but I'm quite sure I can handle a quick chat with my father. I'm not a child."

They both turned to look at him, Dumbledore's eyes grave, Snape's eyebrows risen as if to say, 'you're not?'

"I'm afraid you've misunderstood, Draco," Dumbledore intoned, "your father is not here to see you."

Draco frowned, "Mother?"

"A Mr. Clidesdale, I believe."

There was a moment of confusion, before Draco's eyes cleared and all expression slid from his face. "The barrister? They've sent their _lawyer_ to chat with me?"

Both adults exchanged looks, shifting uneasily.

Draco bit back a bitter epithet and then clenched his fists and steadied himself. "I'll see him."

* * *

"Draco!" the man was short and fat, his voice warm and jovial, and Draco immediately hated him.

"I'd say I was pleased to meet you, but I'm not. Why don't you tell me what my parents obviously felt _they_ couldn't."

Reddening slightly and shifting in his chair, a pitying look came into his eyes. "Yes. Um. Well..."

"Get _on_ with it."

The man sighed. "I have some rather unsettling news, young Mr. Malfoy. It seems your parents... feel th-that it would be... prudent to re-distribute your inheritance."

Draco didn't even flinch, just raised an eyebrow at the lawyer. 

"Not _permanently_, of course. Just... until you can... satisfactorily prove to them that your priorities are in order... and... um... sever ties with certain... deviant members of society."

Eventually, Mr. Clidesdale stuttered to a stop and clicked his briefcase open, shuffling through several scrolls before finding the one he seemed to want. He stared at it for a moment, before straightening his shoulders and turning back to Draco. "I have here a copy of your father's newest Will and Testament. I've also delivered a letter stating that your tuition will no longer be paid by the Malfoy estate. You're going to be moved to one of the smaller properties owned by Mr. Malfoy senior, where you will be privately tutored until such time as you are deemed responsible enough to be re-introduced into Wizarding society-"

"No."

"Unfortunately, you have no choice in the matter, Draco. They will _not_ pay your tuition, this is your only option."

"I've received scholarship. I'll be staying here at Hogwarts."

There was a moment of silence, during which Clidesdale's eyes flicked back down to his scroll and then back to Draco. "I don't think you're aware of the consequences, Mr. Malfoy. You inheritence will be forever lost to you if you remain at Hogwarts."

"Is that all?"

"Mr. Malfoy?"

"Look, I can handle losing the money. Does Father have anything else to hold over my head?"

Clidesdale bit his lip and then handed the scroll over, packing up his briefcase and standing. "I have no further orders at the moment, though I assume I'll be in touch."

"Wonderful. Send them my love."

Mr. Clidesdale paused and frowned at Draco, as if he didn't quite understand the words, then nodded shortly.

* * *

Draco was ensconed in his own little annexed table at the library, studying for his Transfigurations test at the end of the week when a figure came up behind him.

"Go away, Weasel."

"Well, there goes my hope that one day my love would be requited."

"What would Granger say if she knew you were hitting on me, moron?"

"That was sarcasm, Malfoy. Don't know who gave you the idea you were God's gift."

"Probably Harry," Draco smiled down at his paper.

"Harry's opinion doesn't count. He has horrible taste."

"That's true, I suppose. After all, he's friends with you."

"You know, as much as I'm enjoying this conversation, I _did_ come here for a reason."

"I'm going to go out on a limb and guess it wasn't for the books. We all know you can't afford to read."

Ron's jaw clenched, and Draco inwardly crowed. After the stress of the past few weeks it was enjoyable to blow off steam by insulting the Weasel.

Ron chose to ignore the baiting. "It's about Ginny and that bastard friend of yours."

"Ah. How is young Weasley?"

"As if you haven't noticed. Everyone has. She's gotten so bad I'm actually coming to _you_ for help."

"And what do you expect me to do?"

"Talk to her. Talk to Zabini, the rat."

Draco sighed and dropped his Quill, finally turning in his seat to meet Ron's eyes. "It's none of _my_ business if that girl wants to ruin what she's got with Blaise."

"And what _has_ she got with Blaise? She won't ever see him again."

Draco shook his head, "of course she will. The idiot's in love with her-"

"If he's so in love with her, then why did he _leave_?"

"Because he loves his parents as well, and they asked him to."

"So he'd leave her because his parents wanted him to."

"No. He'd leave _Hogwarts_ because his parents wanted him to. There's a difference."

Ron frowned and then sighed, "enlighten me, Malfoy."

Draco smirked, "because they don't want him to break up with her. They want to make sure he really loves her and that she really loves him. He's worth an awful lot of money, you know. They're testing her. Not that you heard that from me."

Ron stared at him for a moment. "Blaise-"

"Probably doesn't know."

"His parents? How do _you_ know anyway? If Blaise didn't tell you..."

Draco hedged, looking back down at his scroll, "It just seems the sort of thing the Zabini's would do."

"Liar. You've got an inside source of information."

"Do you want my help or not? I'd suggest you _don't_ tell Ginny that this is a test. The less she knows about what she's getting into, the better."

"What do you mean?"

"Marrying up. She's in for an awful time of it. She'd better be sure she loves him."

"_Marrying_! Hold up, there. She's not marrying anyone-"

"Do calm down. I'm speaking... metaphorically."

"She's not even _metaphorically_ marrying anyone-"

Draco sighed, "Suffice it to say," he fixed Ron with a hard look, "if she truly loves him, she'll open up one of those damn letters and then write him back and try to make it work. Tell her that."

"She isn't listening to me."

"Probably because nothing worthwhile ever comes out of your mouth. Trust me, tell her that and she'll make her own decisions. Let her."

Ron sighed, nodded, and shot Draco a disgusted look, "you rich blokes are pains in the asses."

Draco's face went blank and Ron paused, lifting an eyebrow when Draco started laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"I just realised... I've been disenherited. I'm _poor_ now. Worse off than _you_ are!"

For a moment, Ron simply stared at the laughing blonde, finally shaking his head and walking away.

**End Chapter**


	6. Optimistic Idiocy

Disclaimer: **Harry Potter**, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of Warner Bros. They are used here for entertainment purposes only.

Warnings: Slash. Het. Kisses. Mush. Language.

Spoilers: Previously written story: Like Glass. Written Pre-OotP. 

**The Shattering  
Chapter 6 - Optimistic Idiocy**

The next morning at breakfast Ginny Weasley opened up her mail. She didn't look up from her toast as she unfolded the parchment, and once she allowed her eyes to sweep along the words, her breakfast was immediately forgotten, along with the breakfasts of half of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Beside him, Pansy elbowed Draco and leaned into him in the first real interaction he'd had from another member of his house since his shocking 'coming out' moment.

"Damn. I've just lost twenty galleons to Millicent. She just _had_ to give in and read the thing, didn't she?"

Draco blinked at her, and her eyes focused on him for a moment, before sweeping quickly away. She shifted a few inches away from him and shook her head, then looked back over.

"I heard you've been disinherited," she snorted. "Serves you right. Harry Potter." She shook her head again, this time in disgust, and Draco glared at her.

"I could care less if you and the rest of the House hated me, Parkinson. Did you think I was fond of you for some reason?"

She hissed, and then tried to look feral when several pairs of eyes turned on them, wanting to witness this scene. "I don't _hate_ you, Draco. I think you're an idiot. But I don't _hate_ you."

It was said under her breath and then she was turning away from him, engaging Millicent in a discussion on what _exactly_ was wrong with that young Ravenclaw's robes. But Draco had stopped listening and smirked into his toast.

"Thank you, Pansy."

* * *

"That bastard!"

_'When added to milkroot, nightshade becomes a healing toxin used in the preparation of several herbal remedies, instead of a deadly poison.'_

"I can't believe a father could be so _cruel_. He didn't even come and tell you himself. Didn't even give you an option... a-a choice! His own _son_! Thrown out on the streets."

Draco sighed and looked up from his Potions book to find Harry flipping idly through his own and muttering heatedly at no one.

"I'd hardly call this 'the streets.'"

Harry scowled at him, "oh? And where will you stay over the Summer hols?"

"The streets?"

Now Harry growled, and Draco suppressed a smirk, shaking his head. "I'm sure I'll be provided for."

"You're awfully optimistic of a sudden." Harry returned, narrowing his eyes, "what happened?"

"Pansy thinks I'm an idiot."

Harry blinked, shutting his book and leaning over the table. "Pansy thinks you're an idiot, and you feel better?"

"Yes."

Harry nodded as if he knew exactly what Draco was talking about, "of course."

Draco smiled and looked back down at his Potions book, and there was about a minute of silence before Harry sighed and reached a hand over, hooking his index finger under Draco's chin and raising his head so that their eyes could meet.

"Please expand your explaination."

Draco wrinkled his nose and shook off Harry's finger, smiling slightly, "She thinks I'm an idiot, but she doesn't hate me."

"And that matters to you?"

"I didn't think it did," Draco squinted over Harry's shoulder, then met his eyes again, "but I guess it does. It's comforting, in a way. With Blaise gone..."

"You want a friend."

"Since you've single-handedly ostracized me, yes."

Harry winced, then scowled, "But... Pansy Parkinson is in love with you. I don't know if I want you being friends with her."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Forbid me. Please. I dare you."

Harry flushed and shook his head. "Fine. But if she hits on you, I'm killing her."

"Ooh. Such violence."

"Don't take my threats lightly, Malfoy. I know curses that'll make her _wish_ I'd killed her. I could hex her with pimples."

"And devious, too. Stop it, Potter, you're getting me hot."

"Warts. Scabs. I could even use Ron's slugs."

"That's it. Put away your books, lover, and meet me on the Pitch in ten minutes."

Harry chuckled as Draco stood to pack up his things.

* * *

Harry dropped a soft kiss on the shell of Draco's ear and the blonde snuggled into his boyfriend's heat.

"Are you okay, Draco?"

"Hmm? Why wouldn't I be?"

"I mean, about your Father and the inheritance."

Draco shifted, breathing in Harry's scent and the smell of grass. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Harry tipped Draco's head back on his shoulder, forcing the blonde to meet his eyes. "You know that you can tell me anything, don't you?"

Draco didn't say anything for a moment, spent the time searching Harry's eyes, warmed slightly. "Yes. I know. I don't think I know anyone as well as I know you. I ought to, I've spent years trying to figure you out. So, yes I know I can tell you anything. But there's nothing to tell." Draco shrugged, looking away, "it's just money."

He felt Harry smile against the skin of his neck, dropping another kiss. "I wish I could say I know you half as well. You keep surprising me. It's just money?"

"Oh," Draco smirked, "I'm not saying I won't miss having it, and rubbing it in Weasley's nose that he's a poor bastard, but... I had a choice and I made it. And I'm not going to be sorry about it."

"Ah. That explains it."

"What? You think I've reformed?" Draco snorted delicately and smiled wickedly into the darkness, "Never."

"So... you're going to be a jerk with a sensitive side."

"Sensitive? I'm not _sensitive_. I'll have you know I'm still better than everyone else. More handsome, too."

"Mmhmm. I agree."

"Could still kick your arse in a duel."

There was a disbelieving snort, and Draco chose to pretend he hadn't heard it.

"Don't need anybody or anything," Draco nodded his head.

"Except me?" Harry whispered in his ear.

"Except you," Draco whispered back, turning for a quick kiss, "but don't tell anyone."

"I'll take it to the grave."

"See that you do. And now, I believe I'll retire. I have class in the morning."

"Noo. Stay, Draco. We can sleep under the stars-"

"My robes already have grass stains, Potter. And it's cold out here."

"I'll keep you warm. Promise."

"Tempting. But if I'm not in bed Snape will know and _poof_, there goes my scholarship. And then, I shall truly be poor. And 'out on the streets.'"

"I'll take care of you. You can be a kept boy."

"I have _pride_, you know."

"I don't. I'll beg. Do you want me to beg? Stay, Draco. Please-"

"Oh. That's pretty. But I really have to go. No, I mean it, Harry." Draco slapped Harry's hands away as they tried to pull him back to the ground. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Fine," Harry sighed and laid back in the grass. "I'm going to stay out here for a little while longer. I have a Divination essay due in the morning-"

"And you haven't even started it. You're a horrible student."

"See me observing the stars? If only I had some company..."

Draco laughed and leaned down to kiss him. "Goodnight. Try to go to bed at a decent hour. You look horrible when you're disheveled."

"Do not."

"Do too. Love you."

"Love you, too. 'Night, Draco."

Smiling to himself, Draco made his way off the Quidditch Pitch and out of view of his boyfriend. Maybe he should have stayed out in the cool grass, wrapped in Harry's arms. Maybe he deserved it. He shook his head and kept smiling down at his shoes as he walked back towards the school and didn't notice the shadowed figure behind him.

And then his world went red, then black.

**End Chapter**


	7. The Pain in Mine

Disclaimer: **Harry Potter**, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of Warner Bros. They are used here for entertainment purposes only.

Warnings: Slash. Het. Violence. Language.

Spoilers: Previously written story: Like Glass. Written Pre-OotP.

**The Shattering  
Chapter 7 - The Pain in Mine**

He shifted slightly when he woke, face crumpling into a grimace at the pain reverberating through his head. He lifted his hand, slowly, to the back of his skull to check for blood, and his other hand went up with it.

His hands were, as they say, tied.

To his feet.

He struggled briefly to free himself and, giving up, groaned lowly and let his head drop back to the hardwood floor. Another brief flash of pain interrupted his conscious thoughts until all his brain would say was, "Ow ow ow ow!"

Breathing deeply, he eventually settled down. He opened his eyes, immediately discovering the blindfold as his eyelashes swept across black fabric. Straining, he could make out a blurry shape or two, as the fabric wasn't as thick as it needed be to block out all of the morning light.

Next time, try linen. Or silk. Bigger thread count, his tired mind supplied.

He worked his wrists against his ankles, judging the looseness of the roped binding him and snorted in the back of his head.

His kidnappers were, obviously, amateurs.

A shifting to his left caused him to freeze mid-movement and lift his head, ears straining to pick out any further sounds.

"He's up."

The voice was muffled, but clearly male, and Draco's eyebrow raised from beneath the blindfold.

"That he is," he offered. "He is also wondering who was dumb enough to kidnap him."

"Why?" Another male voice to his right sneered, "'S your _boyfriend_ gonna save you?"

"Probably." Draco didn't flinch, but inwardly sighed. He was almost insulted that he hadn't been worthy of kidnapping _before_ his relationship with Harry. "What do you want? Money? I hate to be the one to inform you, but I've been disinherited. You probably won't get a penny out of my father."

"Really?" said the voice to his left, but the voice to his right interrupted tightly.

"We're not after money, traitor."

"Traitor? Please tell me you're not working for Voldemort," he said, dryly.

There was a shocked silence when he said the Dark Lord's name, but eventually the voice to his left grumbled, "not yet."

"Shut up!" The voice to his right hissed, and a wand was pressed against Draco's throat awkwardly. "Just- Just shut up! Gag him!"

There was a shuffling, and Draco started to struggle only to discover his hands and feet were tied to something else that kept him in place. Soon, something was being shoved into his mouth by slightly pudgy fingers.

He bit down.

"Ouch! Ow! Little bastard! Draco!"

Draco's muffled protests soon flooded the room, but his captors ignored him, talking over him. "We have to get back, or we'll be missed."

"What about my hand?" Draco was kicked, softly, in the side. He grunted and would have scowled if he weren't so busy trying to work his hands free.

"You should have kept your fingers away from his teeth. Come on." The voice to his right addressed him one last time as the body belonging to the voice on his left began to move away. "We'll be back later, Draco. Trust us, this is for your own good."

The insults being thrown around in Draco's head would have made the most stalwart of men blush.

* * *

Rubbing his head against the floorboard eventually caused the blindfold to fall slack from his ears and he could barely peek out from above the edge of the fabric. He paused in his ministrations, panting, to judge the time of day by the length of shadows in the room. It was dank, he'd long ago noted how awful the place smelled, and by his estimations it was nearly noon.

Harry would have noticed he was gone by breakfast. Snape would have begun looking for him by the time the first class was out. They'd be arguing probably. Eventually Harry, and perhaps his two sidekicks, would sneak out to look for him while all of Hogwarts gossiped.

He idly wondered if waiting to be rescued by your hero boyfriend was always this boring.

He thought back over the conversation he'd had with his captors and a moment or so later winced.

Most people just didn't call him 'Draco' with such familiarity. They'd been Slytherins. And they'd known him.

Old friends.

They'd also not done a very good job of kidnapping him, and supplied with all these observations, Draco came to the most apparent conclusion.

Crabbe and Goyle.

Let's see. Slightly dumber, Goyle had been to his left and Crabbe to his right. Vin had always been the marginally smarter of the two. He slumped to the ground again, ceasing to work at his bound extremities, depressed.

Crabbe and Goyle.

They thought he was a traitor.

He supposed that, in a way, he was. It was bad enough he was seeing a Gryffindor, but... Harry Potter?

In frustration, he let his head thump back against the floor, causing him to wince in pain and squeak against his gag.

Whimpering, again in frustration, he fought back tears all the while swearing they didn't exist, and began to work at his restraints.

* * *

Harry and Snape were scowling at each other and Dumbledore was looking on bemusedly, obviously not worried. This caused Hermione to relax, which caused Ron to relax, and together they exchanged an exasperated look.

"You are a student, Mr. Potter, and, despite your delusions of grandeur, should go _back_ to your class and let the adults deal with this situation."

"He's my _boyfriend_," Harry returned, only a small part of him reveling in the wince his words caused, "and I'm going to find him with or without your help. Professor."

"Ten points for talking back, Potter." Snape growled, but before he could go on, Professor Dumbledore interrupted them.

"Professor Snape is correct, Harry. Why don't you go back to class while we look for Mr. Malfoy. I assure you he'll be just fine when next you see him."

"But, Professor-"

"You heard him, Potter," Snape sneered. Turning, he swirled away and Harry bit back an angry retort, which would have done nothing but lose him more points. Professor Dumbledore smiled at him before following after Snape.

Harry scowled after them until he felt a pull at his sleeve and turned to meet Hermione's worried, but less panicked eyes. "If Professor Dumbledore says he'll be fine, Harry, then he'll be fine."

Harry harrumphed, but relaxed a little. "I still want to go after him. He might be in danger, and it's probably all my fault-"

Ron sighed and interrupted Hermione as she opened her mouth to retort. "Can we pretend we had the conversation where Hermione tells us we should do what the Professors told us to do, and we end up doing whatever we want anyway?"

Harry grinned at him and Hermione scowled, but said nothing as they headed for Gryffindor tower to dig out Harry's invisibility cloak and the Marauder's map.

* * *

About an hour later Draco had finally freed himself and, removing the gag from his mouth, threw it to the floor and stomped on it several times, yelling out insults.

It made him feel better, and no one was around to see him acting undignified.

He shoved his way through overturned furniture, graying wood and dusty fabrics, to the front door of the little cabin nestled in what he assumed to be the Dark Forest.

Why?

Who would have wanted to live in a cabin in the Dark Forest anyway and how had Crabbe and Goyle known about it when Draco hadn't?

Questions such as these served to distract him from the most important issue at hand; namely, what was he going to do about Crabbe and Goyle? They'd been his friends. He'd taught them to do exactly as they had done, and the irony of the situation was that normally; before all this nonsense with loving Potter came 'round; he'd have been right there with them.

Although he would have made sure their captive couldn't have escaped.

He kicked at a molding stair and paused at the bottom of the short flight down, staring out into the woods. They looked rather different in the middle of the afternoon. Still kind of dark, but light enough to see through. The last time he'd been through them he'd been a first year, and had been absurdly comforted by Potter's presence, no matter how he snarked at the brunette he'd once hated, right up until...

Okay. Not helping.

He sighed and searched the ground at his feet, suddenly relieved to find that Crabbe and Goyle, heavy-footed, had left footprints behind for him to follow.

Helpful, that.

Stretching a little, and cursing in the back of his head, he started towards what he assumed to be the school and brooded silently.

* * *

Thirty minutes later Draco halted in the middle of his walk. The throbbing in his aching head had made itself known to him just a few minutes after he'd begun his escape, edging slowly into his mind after the adrenaline of escaping had gone away. But now it was edged to the background again as his adrenaline once again picked up due to the rustling in the underbrush ahead of him. He ducked behind a nearby tree, listening.

"-you sure he's out here, Harry?"

"Yes."

"I mean, why the forest?"

"Where else could they have taken him so they wouldn't be seen running off with him?"

"Potter," he breathed, suddenly slumping against his tree in relief. Harry and friends froze at the sound of his voice and Draco dragged himself out from behind the tree. "What took you so long?"

Harry stared at him in dawning horror.

"What? Is there something on my face?"

It was said weakly, and he squinted at the colorful spots in his vision, and a half a second later Harry was there, wrapped around him.

"Draco, you're bleeding. But you're okay! Well... sort of."

"Bleeding?" His vision was growing wobbly.

"You're hair's all... sticky and red," offered Ron. Hermione had rushed forward with Harry and was checking him over for other injuries.

"Are you all right, Draco?" Harry whispered.

"Of course, Potter. Just got tired of waiting for you to rescue me. Thought I'd do it myself. Lazy git." His voice grew weaker, and he was thankful to already be in Harry's embrace when he passed into unconsciousness.

**End Chapter**


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